Brat
TO BRAT OR NOT TO BRAT, THAT IS THE QUESTION
Whilst my long list of London restaurants expands faster than the universe, my short list has remained three for quite some time. Likely, they’re the hardest ones to get a table at short-medium notice, but with a long-planned visit to old friends, I’m here; at 8pm on a Saturday night too.
First impressions are intoxicating; a wood panelled room that’s equally on-point for romantic liaisons as it is for friend or family catch ups. Its atmosphere supercharged by tightly squeezed, but contented diners and the quiet theatre that comes with open fire cooking and immaculate service.
Chin Chin Vinho Verde, Quinta do Ermizio
First a Chin Chin vinho verde to ease us in, whilst attempting to tease out the possibilities of the minimalist menu; it’s short on words but big on promise. The only real question is whether we opt to share the eponymous turbot—brat being its old English name—but we eventually agree on adopting a semi-starter-and-main/semi-sharing-plates approach, meaning we’ll get to expand the Brat experience.
Grilled bread and burnt onion butter
Judging by the bread alone, the promise is well placed. It’s a huge slab toasted over fire to give it a crisp, blackened crust intensifying the flavour complexities of its fermentation; served with whipped butter, topped with the smoky-bitter twist of burnt onion dust.
Lamb ribs, half eaten!
Our other bread is at least its equal; a pillowy flat bread grilled until it’s puffed up like a football, topped with the umami salinity of Cantabrian anchovies. Meanwhile, lamb ribs are all sweet meaty succulence intensified by their layer of fat.
Soused mackerel toast
We’ve doubled up on the soused mackerel that uses the acidity to amplify its freshness, whilst in perfect harmony with the off-sweetness of whipped ricotta, crunch from toast and the grassy piquancy of flat leaf parsley.
Green asparagus and crab
‘Green asparagus and crab’ is fire-kissed king spears, on an umami-loaded brown meat hollandaise and puddle of butter, topped by sweetness of fresh white meat. It’s the kind of food that makes me happy that summer is just around the corner.
John Dory
John Dory cooked over fire fails to give it any kind of visual makeover, but cooked initially over high heat before being finished over gentler heat, its pleasures are intensified across flavour and texture, especially for this lover of crunchy skin.
Wood roasted greens
A double portion of smoked potatoes, like mini jackets, wearing an extra layer of smoke are gone almost as quickly as they’re put down on the table. We’ve also got some wood roasted, flavour intensified greens, under a dusting of Spenwood cheese.
Mercoledì Paestum, Vigneti Tardis
More wine is ordered and this time it’s a medium bodied low intervention Fiano from southern Italy that suggests tropical fruits in the mouth but finishes with joyous salinity. I’ll be searching for that online before the night is done.
Roast duck rice
Another of the classic Brat dishes—assuming you can’t count them all as such—‘roast duck rice’ is pink-cooked, sliced breast and heart, with roasted beetroot and onion sitting on rice, pumped with smoke-laden duck fat.
Side salad
It’s served with a zesty dressed side salad to counter all that richness, although it’s largely neglected, so enamoured as we are by the deep run pleasures of the main event, right down to the gnarly caramelised, crusty bottom that we gleefully scrape free; going in again and again, like kids at a lucky dip. And we are lucky kids!
Aged mutton chop
The five-week aged mutton chop looks like it’s from Jurassic Park, but it’s actually just cull yaw (retired ewe) cut as a chop from the ‘best end’ of the loin. There’s also a rack of three untrimmed extra-long ribs, that appeals to—and rewards—the neanderthal man in me, sending a glass of wine flying as I rip it apart with hands and teeth. I’m then informed they would break this up for me on request.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones
As for the meat, the fat marbling runs far enough down the loin for it to be tender and melt in your mouth, slowly rendered over fire and turned until a crust is formed, locking all the deep flavoured juices inside. As if that’s not enough, it’s finished off with a jus made from roasted bones.
Langoustine
Across the table are roasted, sweet and juicy langoustines, cut in half with a paprika spiked sauce, although I only manage to snag one of the halves.
I’m in my food heaven… actually pretty much just my heaven. We order a couple of extra glasses of Fiano to let it all soak in, as we collectively enthuse and recount what’s gone before.
But then it feels like I’m Mr Benn and the shopkeeper arrives to return me to a non-Brat normality, although the bill is a barely believable £413.34 between four (Food £248.50 / Booze £164.84 / Service Charge £45.84).
Having fully delivered on all its promises, I’m ready to crown it my new favourite restaurant. I’m also keeping it on my shortlist for another visit… I’m coming back for the brat.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED 10/10
4 Redchurch Street, Shoreditch, London E1 6JJ
